


Golden Amber

by xKookiesandCreamx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Breaking up and making up, Confused Derek, Established Relationship, Hurt Derek, M/M, Magic, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles is a Spark, Stiles is an idiot, Stiles is bad at communication, That he hides, The Pack is alive and well, With magical spark eyes, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10054565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xKookiesandCreamx/pseuds/xKookiesandCreamx
Summary: In which Stiles, being bullied for his unique eye color all his life, decides to get colored contacts. Turns out he didn't need to hide his eyes after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ***Basically imagine Stiles has full on golden colored eyes***

For years, Stiles Stilinski has been living a lie. Nothing too extreme, but a lie nonetheless. 

Growing up, he was always bullied for his eye color (mainly by douchebag Jackson Whittemore but also others).

He was called a freak, a weirdo, an alien, all because of his golden hued eyes.

His mother used to call them "golden amber", his dad used to call them "liquid whiskey", and Stiles, well he called them crap.

 

He was sick of being bullied for his less-than-ordinary eye color that he was somehow saddled with via some genes from some distant great-great- grandparent. And so, when the bullying reached its apex, and Stiles came home with two black eyes, he begged his father to just let him get colored contacts instead of trying to press charges against Jackson's hoity-toity lawyer dad.

And John was hard-pressed, the thing Claudia loved most about their son were his eyes.

But he couldn't let Stiles continue to be bullied, couldn't stand to see him come home again just to rush upstairs and muffle cries into a pillow.

So, John let him. And Stiles hasn't ever felt anything less than joy at the fact. Until now.

 

Now being when his life decided to turn upside down, his best friend being bit by a supernatural creature that apparently isn't just fairytale fodder, and proceeding to fight for his life for the past four years.

And along the way he somehow managed to fall for the leader of his ragtag pack of friends, and in some odd twist of fate said leader somehow fell for him too.

And really, not many would consider falling for Derek Hale and having him fall for you too as a problem. And if you asked Stiles before it _finally_ , finally, happened, he would say the same thing.

 

But now that they're actually together, he can't help the twist in his stomach and the ache in his chest whenever Derek compliments him on his eyes. His fake, light blue eyes.

Like now.

 

"You have the most beautiful eyes, you know that?" Derek says adoringly, cupping Stiles cheek, running his thumb underneath one eye.

They've just got done fucking. Or, well, making love, he guesses. Not that they don't fuck, because they do. _Oh boy they do._ But tonight marked their sixth month anniversary and both of them were admittedly feeling a little shmoopy.

Stiles swallows against the sudden lump in his throat, and gives Derek a smile. One of the most positive aspects about running with wolves for a little over four years? Definitely learning how to properly lie to them both expression wise and verbally.

"I love you." He says in lieu of response.

"I love you too." Derek responds, complete with a kiss to the tip of his nose, before he pulls Stiles into his arms and settles down to sleep for the night.

 

Stiles is just thankful that contacts you can wear while sleeping exist.

 

***

"Take those things out." Deaton says simply when Stiles walks into the examination room for his daily training session.

Ever since his spark powers were discovered, Stiles has been training with Deaton as often as their schedules allow, Stiles's chock full of college classes and Deaton's full of appointments for his actual job.

Stiles rolls his eyes, before slipping the contacts out of his eyes, putting them into a travel contact case.

 

Because apparently that's something he needs to do before spells. Because apparently his golden eyes are the manifestation of his spark powers. Who would've thought, huh? He's always been curious on whether or not his mother knew, but whenever he starts to think of her, his chest hurts too much to continue.

And you may be wondering, 'If Stiles knows that the eyes he's been bullied for throughout his life are actually from something as awesome as magical powers, why doesn't he just stop wearing the contacts?'. Well, the answer is simple: he's in too deep.

He's had his contacts since the very beginning of middle school, so mostly everyone knows him to have blue eyes. He swears even his own father forgets sometimes that blue isn't Stiles's natural eye color. The only one who remembers is Scott, and that's only when his head isn't up Isaac and Allison's asses.

So really, he can't just come right out one day and be like 'Oh yeah, you know how my eyes are blue, well surprise, they're actually not!'. Well, he means he _could_ , in theory, but it would just be messy. 

And he especially feels weird doing it to Derek. The guy's already had a veritable smorgasbord of significant others that have lied about who they really are in some way or another.

 

So, he's content with just living with this lie for as long as he can manage.

 

***

 

Stiles eyes won't cooperate so he can't get his contacts in and he is _freaking_ _out_. He's supposed to have a date with Derek tonight and he can't just show up to the date without the blue eyes his boyfriend loves so much.

"Ugh fuck!" He groans to himself, before stomping out of his bathroom in a huff. Throwing himself face-first down onto his bed, he grabs his phone and resigns himself to the fact that he's going to have to lie to Derek and cancel their date.

He absolutely hates lying to Derek, and feels even worse this time because this is the third time this month he's cancelled one of their dates. And he knows a this point Derek is definitely becoming suspicious and concerned. 

But there's no way he can just reveal his eyes to Derek, not when what they have has been going so well.

He just hates his eyes right now and his stupid frigging contacts. He has no idea why his eyes have been being little bitches lately, although last week Deaton mumbled some cryptic and frankly worrisome nonsense about how with his spark powers getting stronger, his eyes will reject anything foreign even more.

 

He signs, before typing out a quick text to Derek:

Stiles: "Heyy babe, tonight's not going to work, Nicole from my history study group texted me, apparently the group is meeting tonight to work on the project. Sorry! :("

Derbear: "Seriously Stiles??? This is the third time this month! Why do you keep cancelling our dates?"

 

Stiles bites his lip, knowing Derek's got him metaphorically cornered, and decides to try the 'turn it around on him' tactic.

Stiles: "I know, I know, and what? You don't believe me when I say I have my study group?!"

Derbear: "Don't even try and act like this is my fault Stiles!"

 

Stiles sighs, clearly Derek is pissed and the only things that could change that would be a) trying to lie some more or b) come clean about everything. However, him being him decides to go with the lesser chosen option c) ignore the problem and hope it goes away, and stops responding, burying himself under his covers instead.

 

He's just drifted off when there's a loud knock on his window. he freezes in place under his blankets, and hears Derek's voice.

"Dammit Stiles I knew you were lying! What's going on?!"

When Stiles doesn't respond, the knocking ceases with one last dejected sounding knock.

"Stiles? Baby come on! Did I...did I do something? Tell me please?" he hears Derek plead, and his heart lurches. He wants so badly to explain everything to Derek, but knows now is definitely not a good time, not like any other time is a good time either, but clearly Derek is pissed and hurt and would only react even worse to Stiles's confession.

 

Rolling onto his side, he curls up into a ball under the blankets, and hears what sounds like a soft whine, then the sound of Derek shifting. The sound of four paws hitting the ground follows, and Stiles doesn't know whether to sigh in relief or cry at clearly hurting his boyfriend.

He goes with the latter, when a little while later, a painfully sad sounding howl echoes in the distance.

 

***

 

He's awoken later to the sound of his phone blaring, knowing it's Scott by the ringtone. He glances at the time on his lockscreen, seeing the too-bright numbers read 2:54 AM.

"Wha?" He answers groggily.

"Stiles. You need to get to the preserve now."

"Deaton?!" Stiles shouts, abruptly jumping up out of bed, frantically looking for his shoes. 

"Yes, it's me. My own phone was destroyed by the witch, so Scott leant me his."

 

"Witch?!" Stiles yells, sprinting downstairs to his Jeep, thanking the gods that his dad's on a nightshift.

"Well, witches. Plural." Deaton says, the only detectable sign of his distress the small tremor in his voice.

"What?! Okay, okay, deep breath. I'm on my way." Stiles says, hanging up when Deaton gives an affirmative.

 

***

 

Needless to say, it doesn't take long for Stiles to find where exactly in the Preserve the pack is, considering all the yelling and the flying projectiles that can only be works of skilled magic users.

"Stiles! Thank god!" Scott yells, before ducking a fireball thrown his way.

Stiles heads over to Deaton, taking in the scene as quickly as he can. It looks like the Pack have been fighting for a bit, as most of them are worse for wear. There seems to be three witches, all ghostly pale with bright red hair, dressed in black tattered robes. He looks around for Derek, and spots him battling one of the witches, Erica and Boyd helping him.

 

"Stiles, you need to help me." Deaton says when he reaches him.

"Alright, how?"

"With both of our magic combined, we're sure to be able to take these three down. So take those things out and let's get going. What better practice for you then some hands on action, hm?"

"What? I can't take them out. You know that." Stiles pleads. He can see Derek and some other members of the Pack glancing at him curiously during moments of reprieve, and swallows.

 

"Stiles, you know you can't do magic with them in. Now do you want to help or not?" Deaton grinds out. Or well, as mean sounding as the perpetually calm and collected doctor can manage.

Stiles still hesitates, but as fate has it, when he goes to look at Derek, he catches the witch shoot something straight at his chest, making him give a pained howl.

"Derek!" He shouts, poised to run to him, when Deaton grabs his arm and stops him. He looks to the vet, sees his raised eyebrow, and nods.

"Let's fucking do this." he says, taking the contacts out and throwing them on the ground.

 

"Okay, I want you to do any projectile spells you can remember, and aim at them okay? I'll take the one going after Scott, Isaac, and Allison, you take the one going after Derek, Erica, and Boyd, and we can alternate the ones going after Kira and Cora."

"Sounds good to me." Stiles says, before charging towards the witch that's still hurting Derek. His Derek. His boyfriend. His mate. It's with those strings of sentences repeating in his head like a mantra that he manages to fire a largely impressive explosive fireball at the witch, not even twitching when it hits her and she falls back, shrieking.

Her clothes are flaming a bright purple, and no matter what she does she can't get them out.

"Spark magic, bitch." Stiles bites out from where he's looming over her, before hitting her over the head with his rune-enforced baseball bat.

 

He meets Derek's eyes, seeing his expression full of pain, confusion, and somehow, affection. Remembering his eyes, Stiles ducks his head, and turns away, getting back into the fray of the battle.

 

What feels like an eternity later, the witches are finally taken care of, and the Pack all pile into their respective vehicles to head to the loft, where they'll reconvene to discuss the conflict, fix and heal their wounds, and basically ensure each other that they're okay.

Stiles is unlocking the door of his Jeep when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He knows that hand. Tensing, he shakes the hand off, before climbing in.

He waits, knowing what's coming. And, sure enough, the passenger side door opens and Derek climbs in.

"You ran here?" Stiles says at the same time that Derek says, "I ran here."

 

Stiles feels a little tension bleed out of him when the moment brings forth a small laugh from them both.

 

***

 

Stiles goes through the cursory motions of discussing the battle, hugging his friends, and breathing in relief when he notices that no one is fatally injured, before he heads upstairs to Derek's bedroom, the werewolf following behind him.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he feels it dip moments later with Derek's weight.

 

"Stiles, look at me." Derek says softly.

Stiles takes a deep, grounding breath, before complying. Derek lets out a soft gasp, and he flinches and closes his eyes, afraid of the disgust or anger he's sure he'll see on his boyfriend's face.

"Hey, hey, its okay. Stiles, open your eyes." When Stiles just shakes his head and closes his eyes tighter, Derek sighs, before cupping his cheek.

"Stiles, baby, please?" He says, and Stiles feels his resolve crumble, damning Derek for ever finding out that Stiles will practically do anything when he calls him "baby".

 

Slowly, he opens his eyes, and is surprised to see that Derek's expression is the farthest thing from disgusted or angry. He actually looks, affectionate? No, that can't be right.

"What happened to your eyes baby?"

Stiles hangs his head in shame, before mumbling, "I took them out. They were contacts."

"Contacts? But why?" Derek asks confused, before gently lifting his chin up to meet his gaze.

 

"Because I hate my eye color. Or, I did, before I knew it was because i'm a spark. And I used to get bullied for it, so I got colored contacts when I was in middle school. And by the time I found out the spark thing, I was already in too deep. I'm so sorry I lied to you! Please don't break up with me!" Stiles sobs out, feeling his eyes water.

"Woah hey! I'm not going to break up with you! Why would you think that?!" Derek exclaims, before pulling him in for a hug, running his hand up the back of his neck and through his hair.

"You're not?" Stiles sniffles into Derek's shoulder.

"No, definitely not. I'm not even mad, just confused as to why you thought you had to keep lying to me."

 

Stiles pulls back slightly from the embrace, deciding that he wants to face Derek when he explains himself.

"Because, Der, you've already had so many significant others that have lied to you about who they are. I didn't want to be another one."

"Stiles...this is different. All those past significant others lied about who they are in the most extreme sense. This was just you lying about something small like your eye color. You're still you, and that's all that matters."

 

"But, i'm not still me." Stiles says sadly.

"What do you mean, baby?"

"My eyes, the blue ones you love so much. I don't actually have those."

"Stiles, I love you no matter what eye color you have. Obviously I thought your blue eyes were beautiful, but that was only because they were _your_ eyes."

"Oh." Stiles sighs out in understanding.

"Yeah." Derek responds back, before pulling him in for a soft kiss.

 

"Plus, how could you ever think I couldn't like your beautiful spark eyes? They look like liquid amber, and shine like gold." Derek says when they pull apart moments later.

"Yeah?" Stiles says, ducking his head shyly.

"Yeah." Derek responds, leaning in for what Stiles thinks will be another kiss on his lips, but is instead a kiss each on both of his closed eyes.

 

"I'm sorry I worried you Der, and hurt you."

"Its okay baby..but just to be clear, all those times you cancelled on me was because of this, right?" 

"Yeah, which I feel like shit about. All those times was because my eyes wouldn't cooperate and I couldn't get the contacts in. Sorry, Der."

 

"It's okay, Stiles. You don't have to keep apologizing. I forgive you."

"Yeah?" Stiles says, tone laced with relief, and something else. Something a lot like mischief, making Derek squint at him.

"What?" He asks.

"Oh, you know, was just thinking that I was really bad for lying...maybe you should...punish me?" He finishes with a smirk.

 

Smiling at his boyfriend being back to his usual self, Derek smirks.

"That can be arranged." He mumbles against Stiles's lips, the pair tumbling down into the sheets.

 

***

 

 

"You have the most beautiful eyes, you know that?" Derek says adoringly, cupping Stiles cheek, running his thumb underneath one eye.

They've just got done fucking. Or, well, making love. Actually, it was more like fucking then making love after.

Stiles no longer feels the painful lump in his throat at Derek's words. Instead, he smiles, a genuine one.

 

"I love you." He says.

"I love you too." Derek responds. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic in two days? What is going on??? Anyways, I was literally in my physiology lecture today, learning about eyes, and thought up this. Enjoy! Comments and kudos are always welcome! 
> 
> xX Kait


End file.
